“So what do you want?” Casey grinned, as the door continued to rumble behind her, Gary hammering relentlessly. “You’re not going to ask me to fuck you, are you?”

Casey laughed, but again her eyes were dead; she took another step forward, waving the scissors, like they were boxers feinting around a ring.

“Leave Scott alone,” Lauren said.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Casey smiled. “I looked into you, and I noticed something one day. You were visiting Natalie’s grave. What a curious turn of events, I thought, my husband’s work slut grieving his dead wife. I worked it all out. I used the notebook. Even if she was a liar, liar, liar.”

Lauren’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. With each liar, Casey had lashed at herself with the scissors, slicing them across her belly. Thankfully the scissors didn’t cut through her clothes; Casey sighed, stared at Lauren.

Lauren bumped into a heater as she moved back, shaking her head, willing her mouth to work. “Think, Casey. You’ll never be able to do this, anything like this, again.”

“Oh, no,” Casey said, as Gary’s fist pommelled the door. “I killed a cat. What a demon I am. I feel so sorry for the poor little thing. You really are a stupid little slut, aren’t you?”

Casey lashed out, looking like she intended to smash the metal handle of the scissors into Lauren’s face. Lauren ducked back, shouting, just about getting out of the way. “You need to think!”

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

Casey leapt forward. The handle of the scissors hammered into the top of Lauren’s skull. She felt the coldness leaking over her scalp, through her hair, seeping into it. And then it wasn’t cold anymore. Lauren was on her knees, and Gary was yelling from someplace far away. Scott was even making a noise, moaning, his words even more distant than Gary’s.

“Leave her alone, Casey, whatever you want to do with me, whatever with me, just leave her alone, don’t hurt her…”

Casey screeched and something thudded into Lauren’s head. Her eyes were heavy. She closed them and lay on the floor, her arms flat at her sides, as her heart beat in time with her skull. She hoped she wasn’t dying as she went to sleep.

49

SCOTT

You tied yourself to the bed.

Scott’s eyes were swimming as the pain in his hand tried to leech all his attention. The cutting hadn’t gone smoothly. The scissors were sharp, but not razor-sharp, not enough to slice bone, plus they were small. She had twisted it back and forth, trying to saw it away, but she couldn’t. Now his finger was mangled and his arm felt like it was on fire.

But he could lean up, just about, and see what Casey had done to Lauren. She’d struck her twice. Lauren had fallen flat. Scott was begging. He was hardly conscious of his words.

Mostly he heard Natalie’s voice. Had Casey struck an artery? Was that possible, from mangling his finger?